[CLOSED] "Alone" {ThomazM -x- Lexie}

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by ThomazM, Apr 9, 2015.

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    "Alone", a romance roleplay. Participants: @ThomazM, playing Christopher Goldman, and @Lexie, playing Evangeline Bishop.
    Possible libertine will be faded.

    -Recommended Soundtrack-

    "Christopher's Residence".
    6:02 PM

    "Six o' clock", Christopher mumbled to himself, whilst still playing. He sighs, deeply, as his fingers come down upon the piano a bit more heavy. The song, an improvised version of "Kiss the Rain", by the hugely underrated genius, Yiruma. Thoughts rain down alongside the notes, as if real droplets of water. Making its own unique resonance and disturbance in what would otherwise be a beautiful, crystalline lake. His head and spine dance slightly, together with his fingers, his involvement with this one particular song is, peculiar. The song itself isn't either sad, nor happy, it's melodic, it's one of those songs that Christopher likes to label as if they were in a completely different level of rating. Something almost, "ethereal". It might have something to do with it being...
    Well, or... Or how it was one of Rachel's favorites. That's... That probably has something to do with it, yes.


    Phew. The final note. Always, always imponent. Whenever heavy, or light the touch is. Finishing the song, Christopher slowly got up, stretching his spine and clicking his neck, both ways. Sighing, he lays his right hand on the black curtains, opening them just slightly. The curtains. The only object apart from the window itself which protecting him from the outside world. From the mistakes he might've made whilst playing, from the vary array of looks he gets on the streets, from... F-From nothing, really.
    The sun blinded him for what seemed like minutes, which in reality, only were a few seconds. His eyes needed to adjust. It's been probably around seventy-two hours since the last time he actually took a look outside. When finally able to see, the sight he laid his eyes upon was... Was... He failed to find a word to describe it. But he did see a... A blonde, slender... Almost delicate to the eyes, woman. When noticing she was looking directly at him--I mean, she was probably looking at the source of the sound of the piano, but still-- he immediately, and quite abruptly closed the curtains.

    "Oh, Christ...", yeah, my friends, anxiety kicks in real quick. He sat down, laying his back against the piano's leg. Waiting. For whatever that reaction was to fade out, fade away.
    "She'll probably chuckle... And... I don't know... Walk away to... I don't know! Wherever... I don't..." He tried mumbling to himself, seeking some sort of comfort... He doesn't really know. He's quite the "over-reacting" type, in these sorts of situations. Specially... Specially after Rachel. He felt, different, looking at that girl. Her appearance, the way she looked at him. It was all too... Familiar. And he didn't knew how to feel.
    "C-C-Can't you just s-stop? She's probably on to her business already and... And you're here... Just look at yourself! You're pathetic!"

    He stopped. Closed his eyes. Shut his mouth. And waited. He passed through this before. Not... Not quite like this. but he's been through worse. "It's just a matter of giving yourself time", Christopher thought to himself the same very words his past psychiatrist would say.
    And there he sat, waiting. Waiting for it to dissipate. Whatever "it" is.


    #1 ThomazM, Apr 9, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 9, 2015
  2. EvangelineBeautiful. That's all Evangeline could think as she followed the lovely sound on her way to the grocery store. She was starving, having not had anything to eat since dinner the previous night. However, all that was forgotten when she heard the sad, melodic tune. It wasn't long before the petite blonde found herself standing in front of a rather exquisite looking house and stunned into an even quieter silence than she already was. Definitely not struggling she thought as she stared up at a window that the music seemed to be emitting from. Just as she began to sway with the sound of the music, it ended, quieting the gorgeous sounds with its demise. The music reminded her of her feelings when she found out about the tragic death of her parents, sad and alone. She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she closed them, hating the feeling of feeling weak even though she couldn't help it.
    Even as everything quieted and died off, Evangeline remained in her daze, unable to move her smokey grey eyes from the window in hopes of seeing the person responsible for the melody that drew her to the house in the first place. Slowly returning back to the reality that was real life, she began to realize that the window she was staring at had shifted, and now there was a handsome, black-haired male staring back at her. She held his gaze for what seemed like an eternity but was probably only a few seconds before he disappeared and the window returned to its normal and undisturbed state.
    "Get it together Eva," she whispered to herself as she finally pulled herself from in front of the home. Evangeline continued her walk to the grocery store, her hunger becoming present once again. "I've never heard anything so perfect," she murmured to herself as she walked, soon finding herself humming the melody softly. I've got to know his name. Perhaps when I'm on my way back home. That seems like a good time.
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    It wasn't too long before he found himself hitting his head, repeatedly, against the piano. Nine, ten, eleven hits, he stopped counting after a while. The hits themselves weren't strong enough to hurt him, but it was such a simple and easy way to distract himself, that, well... It worked, alright, that's all it matters. After a few seconds, he got up, straightening his shirt, and pants, both... Well, not in their best state. They were, fairly old. They were still usable, though, so, why change? A simple white, comfy shirt, and jeans. It's enough for him. He never needed something new after... Anyhow. I mean, he never really goes out, apart from... I don't know, when he's literally out of food or something of the like. And I mean, there are the walks. But in the mindset "of the walks", he couldn't care less about how he looks.
    Now, in regards to that girl... Christopher wasn't exactly past the subject just yet. His mind still is absolutely boiling with thoughts and how, just "wrong" they were. It's that bad, very, very bad sort of nostalgic feeling you get when you hear a particular sad song, or you see a particular sight, or landscape. This, bad, very, corrupting feeling doesn't fade this easily, oh, it doesn't.

    "Can't you just stop...? Please? I beg you... I b-beg you..."

    He mumbled, faintly. It's actually really common for people with whatever sort of mental disorder, or something along those lines, to talk to their brain like it's a completely different entity from itself. Like it's an enemy of sorts. Christopher isn't any different, at all. He doesn't do it constantly, but it does happen. I mean, you're seeing it now. Not being able to fully control your own thoughts is a flaw in the human brain that should really be fixed, like, ASAP. Christopher gathered whatever was left of his timely sanity, managing to move himself over to the couch, located in the living room, parallel to the TV, he, very, very rarely uses. He sat down. Massaging his temples, he sighed, heavily.

    "And the doctors said you were alright... Yeah, right..."
    #3 ThomazM, Apr 9, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Apr 9, 2015
  4. EvangelinePulling out her extremely short list of items to pick up, Evangeline hesitantly entered the store. She put on her smile, making sure it seemed genuine, and walked around with a basket on her arm. When I say short list, I mean barely enough to live off of for a week. One gallon of milk, a dozen eggs, one loaf of bread, and one pack of hamburger meat. No more, no less. She quietly walked around, retrieving the items she needed, stopping occasionally to stare in awe at some foods she would never be able to afford, such as chips, cookies, and donuts. She kept her fake smile on as she checked out and paid quickly. Upon hearing a couple laughing quietly behind her, she self-consciously adjusted her simple pink blouse and jeans, taking her bags and trying her best not to run out of the building.
    When she was finally heading back the way she came and out of sight of most everyone, she slowed down and caught her breath. At that moment in time, she wanted nothing more than to go back to her new home and let out all of her built up emotion; however, she knew she couldn't. Because if she didn't go find out the man's name at that moment in time, she knew for a fact that she never would. She sighed softly before retracing her steps and ending up back in front of the elaborate house. It, of course, hadn't changed since the last time she saw it, but she was even more nervous about being seen now that before. She took a step back, but before she could talk hersel out of it, which she was in the process of doing mentally, she wallked up to the door and sat her bag of milk down, hesitating several long moments before knocking shyly and taking a step back as she waited.
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    His head twisted, almost instinctively, in primitive sort-of "survival"-type reaction towards the door when he heard the very first knock. "A knock... On my door". It's been... It's been longer than he can remember, that's for sure. He already told the mailman to never knock, to only leave the correspondence on the bush next to the door, or something amount those lines. But never to knock. He'd check. He wouldn't need him to knock. Maybe it's someone selling something? No... The complex doesn't allow that sort of stuff. "Oh, for the love of Chopin, please, don't let it be." He thought to himself, getting up, somewhat rushing towards the door. He looked through the door scope. "But of course", he thought, in the most sarcastic tone he'd probably ever thought in.
    He inhaled, deeply. Clicking his neck once again, he opened the door.

    Looking down upon the... As previously mentioned, delicate, slim, blonde in front of him, he sighed, again. Swallowing dry, he avoided eye-contact as much as possible. His heterochromia was quite the feature. He always got an very, very diverse array of reactions to it, some people liking it, other people it considering it a disease. Personally, Christopher deep inside likes it. It's a unique feature that you don't usually see in someone doing their everyday walk by the lakeside. Though, there's been some reactions that... Well, they weren't the best. Some people tied his eyes to... "Demonic" beings, or just whatever related to "evil". Oh, conservative people and their religious ways of seeing the world, Christopher doesn't know if he should feel pitiful or just ashamed... Anyhow, he focused his gaze down, upon the doorstep, somewhat staring at her feet, without even noticing, for just a millisecond, just enough time for him to gather whatever was left of his non-that-pathetic side and to look, straight into her grey smokey eyes, and so he did. Swallowing dry just once more, he said, in an almost monotone, deep voice:

    -"Erm... C-...Can I help you?"

    The shuttering wasn't really planned, but well... It's done now. He doesn't know for how long he'll be able to hold this confident look. It's harder than it looks, I'll assure you of that. "Trying to fight your demons off", the doctors would say. "Yeah, because that's as easy as it sounds".
  6. EvangelineThe blonde waited hesitantly for what seemed like forever, but when she checked the time, she found that it had only been roughly half a minute. She was about to turn and walk away, leaving the situation be when she heard the distinct click of the door and watched as it slowly opened. Her initial instinct was to take another step back to make sure she wasn't in the stranger's personal space, but her second instinct, as if it came natural, was to put on a smile. Realizing she had to force it, she took a deep breath, deciding to watch his movements carefully, half of her wondering if he was going to speak first or if she was going to have to put herself out there like she so hated to do.
    Noticing he wasn't looking her in the eyes, she couldn't help but wonder why that was. When he focused on her feet, she looked away self-consciously and wrapped her free arm around herself gently as if she could shrink herself and dissipate into the nothingness of the air they breathed. When she returned her gaze to him, she found her eyes staring into the two-toned ones of him. She didn't realize her jaw had dropped ever so slightly until she forces herself to speak, unable to keep her voice from wavering.

    "I-I um...I'm sorry to disturb you but I...um...I heard some beautiful music coming from here and couldn't help but wonder what your name was? I'm sorry if it's an inconvenience but I just needed to know who was responsible for that kind of beauty..."

    She looked down, suddenly feeling stupid as she closed her mouth, realizing she was rambling.
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    "That smile. And that phrase itself. They don't match. They don't match at all. She's lying, one of those two aspects, one of them is a lie. Surely. Or... I don't know, maybe she isn't your usual everyday girl and maybe that's why you had... Whatever that reaction was?" Oh, Christopher. Overreactions are to you what an always rainy place is to the Pacific Ocean. What a wonderful comparison. Buried in said thoughts, he failed to realize he was now looking directly into her eyes. That was probably a "twenty-seconds-er". Of direct. Uninterrupted, eye-contact. That's what happens when you stop socializing. You start to forget the most generic social norms. Finally realizing the incredibly awkward situation he'd put the poor girl in, he sort of snapped. He urged to find words that'd just fill that silence, which just... Which just... Look, it didn't work quite as planned. It was a mess of unfinished words and nonsensical syllables that just made the situation even worse. Realizing how terribly fast the situation was going downhill, he stopped. Closed his eyes. Shut his mouth. And waited for a single second before displaying a somewhat "normal expression" again, and beginning to talk like a normal human being. He sighed.

    -"I-I'm sorry... I..." -He exhaled, quite heavily- "I'm really not the best with people, which I'm sure you've realized by now".

    "Why are you even telling her that?", "Are you trying to take this somewhere?", "She just wants your name, asshole". Thoughts, thoughts and more thoughts.

    -"M-My name's..." -He coughed faintly, cleaning his throat- "Name's Christopher." -He placed one of his hands on the back of his head, lightly scratching it- "W-What's... What's yours?"

    "Oh, awesome, big guy, now what? She'll answer and then what? She'll just leave and you'll regret it, like the pathetic idiot you are, or you'll... I don't know invite her in? She'll think you're a rapist, you fucking pervert." Without even realizing it, Christopher started tapping his feet on the floor, faintly. Trying to count them. Trying to avoid the thoughts. He waited. He even tried forcing a smile, but failed miserably. He might've forgotten how to do it, now that I've think about it. He hasn't, since. He might've actually forgotten how to do it. That's... That's kind of insane, really.

  8. EvangelineEvangeline waited...and waited but with no reply. Her smile faltered slightly but she quickly gained it back for fear of him catching on. She remained silent, realizing that either he was thinking or he just didn't want to talk to her. But surely if he didn't want to talk to me, he would have already told me to back off and leave...but he hasn't moved so I don't think its that... The slim girl kept her eyes on his, finding his heterochromia fascinating. She loved the colors and thought that it made him look unique and frankly, it was one of her favorite parts of him that she liked looking at. I mean his face in general was near perfection in her eyes, but his eyes just stood out to her. She could tell his demeanor was different than those of other people she had come across. It was more sullen and quiet than most. She liked that too. Around most people, she couldn't even hear herself think, and she would always prefer to be around someone that was just as quiet, if not quieter, than she was without it being awkward. Speaking of awkward, Evangeline could tell that was exactly how he was feeling with his body language. She watched as he put one hand behind his head, an obvious uncomfortable gesture, though she kept her smile. Christopher...I like that name... Realizing he had asked her the same question, she froze.

    "Um...well...Mine is Evangeline...I would say that people call me Eva but I don't talk to that many people to be honest..." Evangeline rambled once more, effectively closing her mouth once she realized it. "I'm sorry for rambling on like that..." she said softly as she shrugged her delicate shoulders.

    Nice going smart one. Now he's gonna tell you to leave and you'll only have yourself to blame for acting like a dumb blonde just like the stereotype..... I don't know, maybe he'll still talk to me....IF I get lucky which, from past experiences, I won't. Maybe I should just turn around and pretend like it never happened.... But then you would regret it and you know it so you're standing here like an idiot arguing with yourself instead of talking to the cute man.
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    "Evangeline". Refined name, isn't it? It almost has a golden line around it. All by itself. Christopher caught on to that, he just didn't acknowledge it. He was too worried trying to avoid making this any more awkward than it already is. It really is sort of... "Fascinating", I guess it's the word, to see how pure isolation affects someone. It surprises me that hasn't forgotten how to talk, at all. I guess he has that to thank his doctors for. It's the only "thanks" they'll get, though, that's for sure. Anyhow, we're deviating to much already. In her actual self, Christoper couldn't help to notice the smile. That smile. There's something... Faintly, sort-of familiar about it. Christopher has absolutely no idea what it is, but it's there, it's most certainly there. Is he willing to find what it is, though? That's the question. Listening to the blonde's words, he couldn't help but to raise an eyebrow when she mentioned how she "doesn't talk to many people". She's... I mean, she's undeniably pretty, to not go beyond and use stronger words, let's leave the "gorgeous" locked away for now. And well, usually, people with this appearance, specially hers are... I don't know, they tend to be more... "Sociable". I mean, Christopher isn't all that un-self-aware, he knows he doesn't differs from said looks that much, but... Christopher "has" a "reason" to be the way he is today. Oh, I wonder... Maybe that's what the smile is hiding.

    -"Eh, I guess we already have that in common, then".

    Why did he say that? I mean, why? He could've said, and usually would say something among the lines of "well then, I guess we're done here", but no. "Why are trying to small-talk this girl, Chrissy Chris?", "You're bloody pervert, you know that?", "Just look at you! You're pathetic!", I mean, those are becoming almost familiar to the eyes already. Anxiety has its patterns. Problem is when it gets to this point: "What would Rachel think of this?", and right there, when that specific raindrop finally found its way upon the surface of "Mr.Goldman's lake", he felt a sharp sting in his chest. I'm not even being metaphorical here, he really did feel it. It was actually painful. Like he was just stabbed by something very thin. He took it like a champ, though. The "kick", the very first millisecond of the reaction was very visible, the blonde would see it, absolutely no doubt about it. The trick here was: Christopher bit his tongue. It was almost an instant reaction. "Fuck you". Remember when I was talking about how when people are sort of "crazy on the head", they speak to their own brain like it's an enemy of sorts? Christopher was fed up. "Fuck you, fuck you, holy mother of fuck you". Trying his absolute best to hide the pain, he continued, and to the surprise of us all, he... sort overdid himself:

    -"That's... That's actually a really pretty name. I can't see it getting tiring to say... "Evangeline"."

    What was that? Was that a spark of ... "Old-Chris"? No, it can't be... Holy molly... So this girl is special, after all. I see now. Christopher doesn't even realize it yet, but he will, soon. That "reaction" he had sooner. That was... That was his old-self. All of this, happening right now, that's his old-self, trying to fight. Trying to remove the chains. All because of this girl. Woah, this is getting interesting.

  10. EvangelineEvangeline's smile faultered once again at the next words Christopher would utter. Realizing that he meant not talking to many people was what they had in common, she gave a shy, sincere smile as she looked down. She was about to speak again once she looked back up at him when she noticed the short but noticeable pained loon on his face, causing her to frown. As much as she wanted to ask him what was wrong, she couldn't make herself ask for some reason.

    "What did you mean by that and why do you look so hurt to say it?" she asked suddenly before she could stop herself. Maybe she just wouldn't plet herself ask it. She tilted her head ever so slightly as she placed her hands behind her back nervously. Before answering the question, she heard him compliment her name and couldn't help the shock that made itself present on her face.

    My name? Pretty?! He has to be high...or drunk... Or something! There's no way he means that!

    Evangeline blushed a bright red as the heat creeped across her face though the smile returned. "Thank you..." She said softly as she looked up at Christopher, still wanting him to answer her questions.
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    As imagined, she noticed. Of course she would, why wouldn't she? Christopher's reaction was quick, but anyone just looking would be able to notice something was up. The urge to say "probably something similar to what you hide behind your smile" was beyond fathom. But no, it's too much to push at once. You don't want the girl to snap, Christopher, come on, you're not that stupid. You can come up with something. Just think. Use those gears in your brain for something that isn't just black and white keys on a piano, would you? For once? Come on!

    -"I d-... I don't..."-He sighed, laughing to his own words, just faintly, he turned his gaze down upon his own feet- "I can't even remember the last time I've talked to someone, like, at all... And then you just appear here in my doorstep out of nowhere and... I don't know. Just ignore it, it's nothing, really.".

    Too much information, I'd say. It's funny how that answers both her questions, and she might not even notice it. Well, he was going to complete with "it seems like you're sent here", or something among those lines, but I'm pretty sure he knows that would scare poor Evangeline off. I mean, she seems interested, let's be honest, but still, it's important to measure your words carefully here, Christopher, and you've caught on to that already, haven't you? It's pretty much confirmed already that this is a special occasion. Why? Absolutely no bloody idea. I'm sure "old Chris" knows, though. I can almost hear him screaming from deep inside Christopher's mind. Before adding on, he looked up to her again, tilting his head just slightly to the left:

    -"And I'll be honest here... I must say, your taste in music is..."-He chuckled lightly-"It's pretty phenomenal, really. To like something like what I was playing this much." -He emphasized the penultimate word, is if using it to refer to "this" whole situation.

    Woah, I'm still in chock. Christopher Goldman, starting and keeping a conversation, with a female. And... With a pretty one, mind you. I was expecting to see the very Armageddon before something like this. Rachel would be proud, Christopher.
  12. EvangelineSilently watching him and listening to him speak, Evangeline let out a small sigh. She looked around, noticing they were still standing at his door and decided to try and gain entrance. But how? She looked around and tried to figure out something, anything, that would get her inside so she could try to unravel the thoughts in his handsome head. Maybe...just maybe she could use music to get inside. He hasn't told her to "beat it" just yet so there is a possibility.

    "If I were to be completely honest with you... I've always wanted to learn how to play piano. I'm just more of a violin person. It's the only way I can effectively get all my emotions out by playing it. I just want to know how to play piano because it's a good backup just in case I have to get my violin fixed or something," she explained to Christopher softly as she smiled and shrugged at her words. "And I'm not going to just ignore it. It's completely understandable that you wouldn't know what to say if you don't talk to people a lot. I'm the same way. You're the first person I've talked to in almost a week," she added before going silent.

    Why the hell are you telling him this. You don't even know his last name. You don't even know if "Christopher" is his real first name. Nice going you fucking idiot. Evangeline sighed softly before thinking about the situation. Here she was, standing in the doorway of a stranger's home, carrying on a small-talk type of conversation simply because she liked the music she heard him playing and felt the need to know the player's name. And now you're trying to figure out a way to get inside his home to learn more about him.

    "Do you think it would be okay if I went to get my violin and come back? I'm not sure why exactly, but it's just an urge I have and would love to play you something. I think it would only be fair if it I played you something since I've heard the beautiful music you've produced," she said nervously as she looked up at him, still completely intrigued by his eye coloration and his playing ability....Well...him overall.
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    He swallowed dry. When she finished speaking, that was the only thing Christopher could've think of to say. "Uh". Oh, Christopher. You went from zero to six hundred and seventy million miles per hour in the very fraction of a second. Or rather, in the time-length of this rather awkward conversation. He's lost, poor guy. He honestly doesn't know what to answer. For one, there's his "old self", pushing the chains as hard as he can, screaming from the top of his lungs: "Yes! Say yes!", he shouts. In the other hand, there's his anxiety, much more powerful and imponent, crushing his insides like a massive black-hole. "Oh, ready to forget Rachel, are we? Oh, I'm sure she would be fine with this, surely! Ahaha, not.", always sarcastic. Have I commented already on how much of a bitch anxiety is? Yeah, because it really is. It's always there, kicking one column at a time. He gazed upwards, as if thinking-- in reality, that's just an excuse to avoid eye-contact.

    -"I suppose that's... F-Fine?" -That tone of uncertainty in his voice wasn't really planned- "Yeah, that's fine, completely fine. I'm a huge fan of violin myself, so..." -He smiled awkwardly, looking back at her.

    Yeah, smiled. Actually smiled. It was kind of crooked, but, holy crap, I must admit, Christopher, you've impressed me. There's a whole war, with explosions, lasers and everything, going on inside your head, and you've gathered forces to smile? Congratulations. Stepping back into reality a bit, he stopped, as if he had realized something, rolling his eyes, he said:

    -"J-Just give me some time to... Mhm." -He gazed inside the house, and into the absolute mess it was- "Just give me some time to do some clean up. Half-an-hour should be enough-h."- He cringed faintly.

    The headache Christopher is feeling right now is unbelievably painful. I can almost hear the crumbling going on inside his head. His anxiety is furious, like, extremely angry, it's mad. He's not eager to give up, though. He's up for the fight. Come on, Chris, you can do this.
  14. EvangelineThe small blonde looked up at Christopher quietly, unsure of if he would agree with her request by the long stretch of silence that fell between them. When he finally answered that it was fine, Evangeline sighed with relief as she smiled at his next statement. When he smiled, she felt herself melt slightly, wondering how long it had been since he last truly smiled at someone. Probably longer than you've gone without genuinely smiling at someone. Her conscience rang out in her head as she looked down with a bright red blush. She looked in his home, noticing the mess and gave a small smile though it was real. She looked back into his eyes and nodded ever so slightly, deciding it would be best for her to try and be as friendly as possible.

    "Half an hour is perfectly fine with me... I suppose I'll see you then," she said softly before blushing and turning to walk away. She went straight back to her home and put her groceries away, taking her time to eat something simple before letting out a small sigh and going to her room. Finding her favorite violin, she took it out of the case and quietly began to practice and tune carefully until it was perfect. She smiled softly as she applied a touch of makeup and took her hair down, brushing out the curls and allowing it to frame her face as she looked in the mirror and waiting for the rest of half an hour to pass, staying nervous the entire time.
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    After she finished replying, he raised his hand as if saying "until then"-- then he just sort-of watched as she turned around and just... Walked away. Sighing, he carefully turned around, stepped back in, and slowly locked the door behind him. He felt his head could explode at any moment-- he hadn't felt a headache this strong in years, that's for sure. "Half an hour", he mumbled to himself, "half an hour, to clean all this shit up". He dragged his left hand onto his forehead, messaging it. It wasn't helping, but he didn't have any aspirins around, so... That was it, unless he went out and bought some, which we knew very well wasn't going to happen. "Christ, and I'll need to take a shower as well...", he reminded himself. With his free hand, he knelled down and grabbed a random couch cushion, the nearest "out-of-place" object to him. And inhaling, very deeply, he said, gazing upon the mess: "Well, I better get started, then".

    Around twenty minutes later.

    What a ridiculous scene. A man in his mid-twenties, running recklessly around his house, putting couch cushions back in their place and boxes of leftovers in the trash. It had to be done, though. He'd have someone over. A woman. In his house. Not only just that, she'll bring her violin, and they'll play together. Woah, it sounds very serious when saying it out-loud like that. And I suppose it is? I mean, it's a step forwards in the right direction to suppress this whole "thing", that has been going on for around... I don't know, two, three years now. And well, it's clear that he's at least willing to try, so, why the hell not, am I right? And don't get me wrong, anxiety has been bitching on and on for around twenty minutes nonstop now and the headache isn't getting any better, but as previously mentioned: He's fighting and he's doing this, that's what matters.

    -"I think..." -He grasped for air- "I think I'm done..."

    He gazed into the digital clock, on top of his support rack for his TV-- he had about nine, eight minutes left for a shower. He sighed, "Oh, great", he said, running up the stairs, throwing his clothes onto the carpet in the hall of the upper floor, she isn't going to go upstairs anyway, so, that shouldn't matter too much. For now, all he had to worry about was being as quick as possible on this shower.

    Around ten minutes later.

    And so he did. With minutes to spare, he finished his shower, put on pretty much the same outfit, which consisted of another white, comfy shirt, dark jeans and to top it all of, now he actually has shoes on. Yeah, I know, right? Now all he needs is a fedora! Jokes aside, it all worked out pretty well, as the cold shower really helped ease his headache. Anxiety is being a bit less of a complete bitch, so that's also good. Currently, he's waiting for her, sitting on his piano's bench, playing around with the keys, improvising some of Yiruma's songs without worrying about it too much. "She shouldn't take too long now".